


Ultra Metum

by galerian_ash



Series: Sine Metu [3]
Category: The Expendables 3
Genre: Angst, Drunkenness, M/M, Missing Scenes, Playful Sex, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 15:19:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2233839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galerian_ash/pseuds/galerian_ash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gunner catches up to Barney in Vegas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ultra Metum

**Author's Note:**

> Title means "Beyond Fear".
> 
> While this is technically the third part, it can definitely stand alone. But do beware of spoilers for EX3, if you haven't seen it yet!

Vegas feels like the last place on earth he wants to be.

There are bright lights everywhere Barney looks, garish and inescapable. It seems like the city is full of life and brimming with happiness, but all it takes is one closer look for the illusion to collapse in on itself. Nothing but hollow-eyed people, wrung out yet still desperately hopeful. Men and women sticking by _their_ special slot machine, foregoing basic needs like food and toilet breaks. Others betting everything on one roll of the dice, only to lose — and then go right back to playing, in some misguided attempt to regain the loss.

Barney hates it. It's a place full of losers, and there's a crawling sensation in his skin that almost seems to mock him. Because hey, he fits right in, doesn't he?

He's about to set out for a mission that can only end in one way, yet he lacks the ability to back away. The only thing he can say in his own defense is that at least he's not taking the team down with him. Dumping them had killed him — and not just in a figurative sense. There's a chance he could've made it out alive, if they were there to watch his back.

But not without unacceptable losses.

He doesn't expect the replacement crew to be of much use, and that's fine. Just as long as they can provide enough distraction for Stonebanks' men to slip up, and give him a chance to take down that bastard once and for all.

Beyond that, it doesn't matter. He can't allow himself to think about anything else. Self-loathing and regret can come later, when he's bleeding out somewhere after having finished the job. He'll think about the things he's left behind then.

He'll think about Gunner.

But not _now_. He has to spend the night in this miserable town, before Bonaparte is ready to take off and round up the new guys. Just one night, and then he'll be on his way.

\----

It's just after midnight when Barney hears the footsteps.

And sure, there have been plenty of people passing by his room; he only has himself to blame for that, what with checking in to the first hotel he saw. He should've gone for something off the beaten path, but he just hadn't cared enough to bother.

Popularity of the hotel aside, these footsteps are different. They're heavy and intent, and come to a stop right outside his door. He slides a hand under the pillow, grabbing his gun the same second a knock echoes through the room.

It'd seemed farfetched enough that Stonebanks would've sent someone to take him out, and even more so that said someone would actually _knock_ first.

"Barney, open up."

The voice is muted by the door separating them, but there's no mistaking it. It's Gunner.

Damn it all, it's _Gunner_.

He leaves the gun on the bed and goes to unlock the door. It's a pity he's on the twenty-something floor, 'cause he sure would've considered bailing through the window otherwise.

The click of the lock is apparently all the invitation Gunner needs, for he immediately bursts into the room, dropping a duffel bag at Barney's feet with a grunt.

"Why the hell did you take off without me?" he snarls. "I had to fly coach, do you know how expensive that shit is? And there's no fucking leg room — not even Yang would've fit."

Gunner looks like a mess, hair sticking up every which way, and there's an exhausted wildness to his eyes that tells Barney that leg room hadn't been his only trouble. A crying baby, perhaps? Or a talkative old lady, too near-sighted to realize that Gunner was glaring at her to shut up?

It would've been easy to slip up; to laugh and ask him to describe the flight, before settling down for a drink. So easy to smile, and say something foolish like 'I'm glad you're here. I couldn't sleep without you.'

Easy, and utterly damning.

So he swallows all of that down, and forces himself to speak. "Did you not hear a word I said back at the bar? You were sitting right next to me, how could you possibly have missed it?"

"Oh, no, don't worry — it's just me here."

"What?"

"I heard you, and I get it. So I didn't tell anyone about coming — I'm here alone, no worries."

"No worries," Barney repeats, deadpan. "Gunner... What are you talking about?"

Gunner frowns. He really does look tired, like he hasn't slept for a while. He probably hasn't, if he's been chasing after Barney and dealing with commercial flights. Hell, just finding the right hotel must've taken hours — it's a reminder of just how good Gunner is when he wants to be, that he managed to find Barney in the first place.

"I heard everything you said at the bar," Gunner says, "and I understand. I might not _agree_ with it, but I respect your decision."

"Then why are you here?"

"Huh?"

"You, here!" Barney yells, feeling his patience fraying.

"Where else would I be?"

Gunner says it so simply, like it's the most natural and obvious thing in the world, for him to have followed Barney halfway across the country. It's accompanied by a smile, crooked and familiar, but there's a look of uncertainty creeping into his eyes, like he's just starting to realize that he might not be welcome.

And Barney, however much he hates doing it, has to drive that realization home; has to twist the knife. "We're done. I don't want you here. I told you as much in the bar, Gunner."

"I didn't think you meant me," Gunner mumbles. He sounds dazed, almost like he's talking to himself.

"Of course I did, I can't believe you'd-"

"Don't give me that!" Gunner snaps, cutting him off. "Are you telling me that you didn't think it was strange that I didn't say anything? Not a single word, Barney — everyone else spoke their piece, but I kept silent."

He'd noticed, but had chalked it up to Gunner trying to make things easier for him. He'd even been vaguely grateful! Shit, he should've known better.

"Okay," Barney says, groaning, "you thought you weren't included. Alright, fine. I'll spell it out for you: You're part of the team, and the team is no more. It's all over."

"I _got_ that," Gunner hisses, moving into Barney's personal space. He's close enough that Barney can feel the heat radiating from his body. "But we're more than just teammates, remember?"

Barney steps back. "Not anymore."

Pure fury flashes through his blue eyes, and for a second Barney is certain that he'll take a swing at him. Hell, he would've welcomed it. Physical pain would be nice, something to distract him from the ache in his heart. And he'd thought the talk in the bar had been hard...!

In the end Gunner doesn't go for it. He simply bares his teeth before pressing his lips together, and turns around. He stalks out of the room without another word, leaving behind his duffel bag.

Barney stands still for a long time, fighting the part of him that wants to chase after Gunner.

In the end he compromises, staying put but leaving the door unlocked. Not that he expects Gunner to come back; he's burned that bridge to the ground now, and damn well salted the earth too. Still, leaving it unlocked makes it a little bit easier to crawl back into bed and stare up at the ceiling, waiting for the night to pass.

\----

It takes a few hours, but the footsteps return. They don't sound the same — somewhere during the night they've become unsteady, lacking the previous rhythm of Gunner's angry stomp. But it's him, there's no doubt in Barney's mind of that.

It's hard to say for sure, but it seems like Gunner foregoes knocking in favor of just slamming his entire body against the door. That's what it sounds like, at least.

Barney groans as he slowly gets up from the bed. Sleep hasn't deigned to show its merciful presence, so his eyes are stinging and his head is pounding. There was a time where he could pull all-nighters without any issue, but those years are long gone.

All things considered, he really isn't up for this. But there's nothing else he can do, short of ignoring Gunner until hotel security shows up. That'd sure be a fun story to tell the guys; Gunner being dragged away by some sedentary guards.

The idea turns bitter when he remembers that he probably wouldn't get a chance to tell them.

He's halfway to the door when Gunner gets it open. He stumbles in, a comical look of surprise on his face. It disappears as soon as he spots Barney, turning hard and icy. He slams the door shut.

"I'm back," he yells. It's a rather unnecessary statement, honestly.

"Pipe down."

"I'm here to screw you through the mattress, to show you the error of your ways."

Barney raises an eyebrow at that, but the wordless eloquence is lost on Gunner, who seems to be having a problem focusing his gaze.

Among other things.

He's dead drunk. His speech is slurred and he can barely stand upright without tilting. Barney sighs before reaching out to grab Gunner's arm, hauling him to the bed. It's a weakness he shouldn't indulge in, but he tries to tell himself that it's more for Gunner's benefit than his own.

Gunner doesn't resist the pull, only lets out a pleased little hum as he's shoved into the bed. "Damn straight," he crows, "you might as well just give in!"

"Oh shut up," Barney mutters. He goes back to lock the door before ducking into the bathroom. He takes a few minutes to compose himself, wanting to be utterly sure that he won't do something stupid.

The first thing he sees when he walks out is Gunner's naked ass, lying on top of the blankets. His clothes are strewn haphazardly across the floor, but one of his socks has mysteriously managed to remain on.

For all his bravado, Gunner has dozed off, snores muffled by the pillow his face is smushed into.

Smiling, Barney walks up to him and removes the final sock. He pulls the blanket from under Gunner, holding his breath when it makes him roll over on his side — thankfully, he stays asleep.

Barney slides into bed, covering them both with the blanket. He lies facing Gunner, briefly content with simply watching him sleep. In the end, the temptation to lift his hand and gently stroke the bangs from Gunner's face becomes too much. He gives in without much resistance, figuring that it might be the last time he'll get the chance. Hell, depending on how things turn out, it's perhaps the last time he'll even _see_ Gunner.

"Don't drink so much," he whispers.

Gunner mumbles something in his sleep and moves closer, perhaps seeking out the fleeting touch. Heart aching, Barney pulls him closer, running a hand up and down his back, slowly.

After a while, Gunner's breathing changes — he's awake, and Barney _knows_ he should let go; should pull back and keep his distance, but he just can't. So he continues stroking Gunner's back, and pretends he doesn't feel the shuddering of Gunner's breath against his chest.

\----

In the morning Barney leaves without a second glace — or that's what he would've liked to claim, in any case. In reality he even leans down to press a kiss to Gunner's forehead, bypassing the lips with a quiet chuckle over the drool.

Before leaving the hotel he pays for another day on his room, so that Gunner can nurse his hangover in peace and quiet.

Nurse his broken heart as well, his treacherous and cruel mind adds.

\----

It's one thing to fight together, that's so deeply ingrained in the both of them that it's impossible to rip out. And it's another to celebrate, surprised joy at everyone being in one piece, together at the bar with drinking and singing and the best of friends.

Those things come easy.

Trying to gather up the courage necessary to walk up to Gunner, just the two of them, and try to _talk_ , doesn't.

And so maybe he drinks a bit more than he usually does, but who can blame him? Everybody's in high spirits, and it's not like anyone even notices that he's downing the booze out of fear, rather than happiness.

Galgo is sitting next to him, talking a mile a minute. Barney has partly tuned him out, listening with one ear in case he switches from talking about stuff like how the world's oldest recipe is for beer, to something of actual importance.

"Seriously," he says, voice suddenly lowering as he moves in closer, "the tall one _really_ doesn't like me."

That catches Barney's attention. "I told you, he-"

"Doesn't like anyone. Yes, yes, I remember — but he's been glaring at me all night!"

"Really?" Barney twists in his seat to take a look, ignoring Galgo's noises of protest. Gunner's glaring alright, but it seems to be directed more at Barney than anyone else. It figures. Whatever shred of alcohol-imbued determination he's managed to gather up disappears very quickly. There's no point in even _trying_ to talk, if Gunner is looking at him like that.

"It's not you," he mutters, turning back around and downing the remains of his glass in one gulp.

"Eh?"

"He's not glaring at you, Galgo."

"Then who — oh. It's you? But why is he mad at you?"

"He has his reason."

Galgo's fingers thrum against the table, and for a couple of moments there's blessed silence. It doesn't last, however. "You don't want to talk about it?"

"No," Barney growls.

"I think you should. It's good to let it all out, you know. And I'm a good listener! You might not think so, but you'd be surprised. Come on, try me."

As if to encourage him, Galgo slings an arm across his shoulders. Barney resists the urge to elbow him in the face.

"Whoa, don't look now, but his face just grew a million times more pissed!"

"Ignore him," Barney says, shrugging off the arm.

"No, no," Galgo replies, sounding very thoughtful. "I have seen that look before."

"I'm sure you have." Right before they told him to shut the hell up, probably.

"Don't move, I'll test my theory."

Before Barney has a chance to ask what he means, Galgo lets out a loud laugh and thumps him several times on the back, hitting all the sore spots.

"What the-"

"Hah, I knew it! He looks about ready to skewer me with that Bowie of his."

"And that's a _good_ thing?" Barney says, incredulous.

Galgo's grin fades a bit, turning serious. "You two are like that, right? I'm not mistaken?"

"Huh?"

"I do not judge. Men like us take it wherever we can find it. And if you found something worthwhile with him, something truly good, then I'm happy for you."

Well, shit. No one else knows, but Galgo — Galgo, who's known him for a matter of days — saw it right away. It's almost funny, in a horrible sort of way.

Barney swallows. "Yeah, you're right. It was like that. _Was._ I fucked up, and I'm not gonna get it back. The way he's glaring at me should tell you as much."

"Oh, my friend, you got it all wrong. But don't worry, I'm here! I'll help you out."

"Great. Just what I need." Barney snorts, as he reaches out to refill his glass.

"Remember what I told you about Tiger? What he said was the most important thing?"

"Patience."

Galgo lights up, as if it means the world to him that Barney still recalls it. It makes his annoyance evaporate, prompting him to fill up Galgo's glass as well. It's the only thing he can think of doing, and he hopes it comes across as the gesture of friendship he intends it to be.

"Thank you," Galgo says softly, lifting his glass in the air. Barney does the same, clinking their glasses together. They down the drink in unison.

"See," Galgo then continues, "as a sniper, patience was key. But he tried using it for other things as well. When we were out, he always just sat around, _patient_ , waiting for the women to come to him."

"Which didn't work, I'm guessing?"

"Exactly! But I was his friend, and I'm a very good wingman. So I helped him out, just like I'm going to help you."

"Oh, no, wait, wait — _no_ , Galgo. That's not-"

"Shh, trust me. I know what I'm doing. Those glares of his? It's all about jealousy! If he wanted nothing to do with you, he wouldn't be looking at you like that. I swear it."

"Okay," Barney replies, dragging a hand through his hair, "let's say you're right. So what?"

"All we have to do is give him enough incentive. You're having problems taking the first step, yes? So let him do it."

"Incentive, huh."

"Yes, well, not enough to go on a murderous spree — that wouldn't be very fun for me, you know what I mean," Galgo says, laughing. "But just a little more than this. I get up like I'm going to leave, and you stand too. I know you said no hugging, but this is a special case. So hug me, and then look at me and smile as I walk away."

"Sure, you got it." Barney shakes his head, wondering what the hell he's getting himself into. But it's worth a try, isn't it? It's not like _he_ has any better ideas.

"Okay! Are you ready, Barney?"

"I guess."

"More gusto, if you please!"

Rolling his eyes, Barney starts to get up. Galgo immediately springs up, and makes a great show of returning the hug he's given. "I'll see you tomorrow," he calls out as he walks away, and Barney adds to the script by giving him a friendly wave. Judging by the thumbs up he receives in return, Galgo approves of his improvisation.

He sits down again, not expecting Gunner to even have noticed the scene. But it doesn't take more than a minute, and then a hand clamps down on his shoulder.

"Not just a new team, but a new lover as well?" Gunner whispers into his ear.

Struggling to keep his voice calm and steady, Barney answers, "You know me better than that."

The hand travels up to his throat, lingering there before taking hold of his chin and turning his head. Gunner's eyes are narrowed, searching. "I thought I did," he says, slowly, "but then you went and left me behind."

"I wanted you to live." Barney reaches up and pulls Gunner's hand away, entwining their fingers in the process. He doesn't give a damn if anyone sees.

Gunner leans forward until their foreheads are touching. He stays like that for a couple of heartbeats before stepping back, releasing Barney's hand at the same time.

"It's you who don't know me, if you think I would've stuck around after you died."

"Jesus, Gunner, don't _say_ that."

"Whether I say it or not doesn't make it any less true."

Barney reaches out, suddenly feeling a desperate need to recapture the physical hold. But Gunner evades his seeking hand.

"I love you," he says, quietly. "But I'll never forgive you if you go and die without me."

"Gunner..."

"When you understand that, come find me. That's all I have to say, Barney. I'm going home now."

Barney watches him go, unable to speak past the lump in his throat.

After a few minutes, Galgo rejoins him. "Don't worry," he says by way of greeting, "I made sure no one was looking at you guys. I distracted them — of course, now they all think I can't throw knives to save my life. It's not my best skill, I admit, but I _could_ have hit that dartboard if I'd wanted to!" He grows quiet, perhaps picking up on Barney's mood. "Didn't go good?" he asks.

"Not really, no."

"Damn. I glanced over once, and it sure seemed like it was going according to plan. But the next time I looked he was gone."

Barney doesn't answer.

"Listen... I know it's personal, but if you want my advice you're going to have to give me a little more information, here. Why exactly are you two fighting?"

He considers snapping at Galgo, telling him something biting and harsh like 'I never asked for your advice in the first place'. But it'd be unwarranted and unfair; nothing more than him lashing out at the one person foolish enough to talk to him.

Besides, what difference does it make? Galgo already knows more than anyone else, so one more detail can't hurt.

"He's upset that I refused to bring him along, when I went after Stonebanks. I just wanted to keep him _safe_ , but he — he can't get that through his thick skull."

Galgo is silent for a long time, and Barney's surprised to see a spark of anger in his eyes. "I wish you had told me that earlier," he finally says.

"Why?"

"Because I would've tried talking some sense into _you_ , instead of torturing that poor bastard!"

Taken aback, Barney can only stare.

"Don't get me wrong," Galgo continues, some of the anger abating, "I still would've been on your side. I'll always be on your side, even if you're in the wrong. And you are, in this case."

"Alright," Barney says, still reeling. "Mind explaining why you think that?"

Galgo lifts his arms into the air, clearly exasperated. "You've seen me! I got left behind by my team, too — even if it wasn't an intentional choice like yours. And look where it left me. Was I happy to have survived? No, dammit!"

Barney lets that sink in, as Galgo mutters a bunch of Spanish curses under his breath. "You weren't doing him any favors, Barney. You were just being selfish."

"Fuck," Barney says, trying to force a laugh but failing miserably, "you're not mincing your words, that's for sure."

"Did you want me to?"

He thinks about that for a moment. "No. Thanks, Galgo."

"Now go after him," Galgo says, grinning.

Barney does.

\----

He decides against knocking, in case Gunner has gone to sleep. There's something about using his own key that he's always liked, anyway. It'd meant a lot to him when Gunner had given it to him, but he'd never said so. He regrets that, now. There are a lot of things he should have said.

But it's not too late, is it?

He turns the key and walks inside, taking care to be quiet. Maybe he can just slip into the bed and curl up beside Gunner, putting the talk on hold till morning.

Those plans are quickly shattered as he enters the bedroom and finds Gunner very much awake, sitting on the edge of the bed. He doesn't look up as Barney enters, though his stiff back is a telltale sign that he's aware of his presence.

"Hey," Barney says. "Didn't think you were still up."

"What are you doing here?" Gunner's voice is dangerously low.

"Where else would I be?" Barney replies, echoing the words Gunner had spoken in Vegas. "Besides, you told me to come find you."

He stands up and faces Barney, eyes flashing with rage. "Not until you understood!"

"I know. That's why I'm here, now. I do understand."

For a second it looks like Gunner is going to yell something in reply, but then he closes his mouth and lowers his head. "Really?" he finally says.

"Yeah," Barney answers, taking a step towards him, "really. Next time I plan on facing insurmountable odds, you'll be right by my side. And then I'll fight twice as hard to make sure we make it out alive. You'll be there, Gunner, I promise you that."

Gunner moves forward, closing the final space between them. Slowly, he lifts his hands to loosely rest around Barney's waist. "Break that promise and I'll break your legs," he says, baring his teeth. "Nah," he continues, as the grin turns warmer, "I'm kidding. I trust you to keep your word."

"Thanks, that's very reassuring," Barney says, snorting. He grabs hold of Gunners face and pulls him down for a kiss. Gunner responds by moving his hands lower, getting enough of a grip to hoist Barney up. He wraps his legs around Gunner, focusing on the kiss as Gunner moves forward until his back is up against the wall.

There he is, effectively trapped between the hard wall and Gunner's hard body — and there's nowhere, _nowhere_ he'd rather be.

"So, about tomorrow..." Gunner says between kisses. There's a slight tremble in his arms, but that's the only thing giving away the strain of holding up Barney's full weight.

"Mm?"

"Well, are you? Seeing him, I mean?"

"Who?"

"Señor Motormouth. Those were his parting words to you, that he'd see you tomorrow."

Barney lets out a bark of laughter. "You really _are_ jealous!"

"That's not an answer," Gunner grumbles. "Fine. See him if you want, but he'll damn well know who you belong to."

Before Barney can ask what that's supposed to mean, Gunner's licking and sucking at his throat. It feels good, so he tips his head back, granting better access, only to yelp when Gunner bites him. Apparently not satisfied with just that, Gunner goes back to sucking — no doubt leaving behind both a bite mark and a hickey.

"That's childish," Barney mumbles, but honestly? The thought of Gunner wanting to mark him makes him hard enough to throb.

"He was basically _pawing_ you," Gunner replies. There's a pout on his face that Barney is more than glad to kiss away.

"I'm not seeing him tomorrow," Barney says when he pulls back for air. "Hell, I don't plan on seeing anyone or anything besides you. Won't even leave the bed." He grins, adding, "You can bring me breakfast in bed. And dinner."

"And a bottle to pee in," Gunner adds.

"Gee, thanks — you're such a romantic. That really sets the mood."

Gunner's lips slowly curl into that crooked smile of his, as he lets Barney back down on the floor. Hands now free, he reaches out to place one on the front of Barney's pants. "I don't know," he drawls, as he cups the hard-on, "doesn't seem like you mind all that much."

Barney draws a shaky breath, unable to keep his hips from bucking up into the touch.

"Aren't we eager," Gunner teases. "Guess I must've let you down earlier. I better make up for that, hm?" He punctuates each word by slowly massaging Barney's cock through the rough fabric of his jeans.

"Huh?" Barney's brain isn't exactly firing on all cylinders.

"I said I was going to screw you through the mattress, didn't I?"

Oh. _Oh._ "Okay," he breathes, "that works for me."

Gunner hums. "Thought it might."

They move to the bed, shedding their clothes on the way. Barney is first to tumble into bed, laughing when Gunner unceremoniously falls over him, more or less crushing him in his attempt to reach the bedside table.

He rummages through it for a moment, grunting and growling as his frustration grows. Finally he yanks the whole drawer out, scattering the contents on the ground. He grabs the lube with a triumphant grin.

"Aren't we eager," Barney mimics. His laughter dies in his throat as Gunner scoots down to swallow his cock. Head snapping back and eyes squeezing shut, he loses himself in the sensation. He's unable to stop a whine from escaping his lips when Gunner releases his cock with a wet sound that's dirty as hell. Barney fucking loves it.

A slick finger presses into him, making him gasp.

"Relax," Gunner mumbles.

"You could've warmed it up first," he complains.

Gunner just smirks. "Sorry 'bout that, forgot how delicate you are."

"Ass."

"Mhm." Gunner adds another finger, scissoring slowly.

Wanting to get revenge, Barney fights against the urge to simply succumb to the pleasure, and grabs the lube. He squeezes out a generous amount and — without rubbing his hands together to warm it up — reaches out to coat Gunner's cock.

He hisses, retaliating by hitting Barney's prostate. When Barney gets himself back under control, Gunner has added a third finger. "Ready?" he asks.

"Fuck, _yes_."

Gunner angles his body, giving his ass a friendly squeeze in the process. He enters slowly, nothing but serious concentration on his face, clearly holding back in order for Barney to acclimatize. Barney feels a bloom of tenderness and affection at that, making him smile.

"Feel good?" Gunner asks, misinterpreting the smile.

"Yeah, it does," Barney whispers. "But most of all I'm just happy to be here with you."

A tremor passes through Gunner's body, blue eyes growing soft. "That makes two of us, then."

Barney pulls him down for a kiss, and as their tongues tangle in a languid rhythm, Gunner begins to move inside of him. It feels so damn good, in every way, that Barney can't think straight.

He does his best to meet every thrust, moaning when Gunner pauses on a particularly deep stroke. He's buried to the hilt, balls pressed against Barney's skin.

"Sorry," Gunner groans. "Not gonna last much longer."

"Then come."

"You, too." He shifts, moving one of the hands that have been bracing him up to Barney's cock. It's achingly hard, and has leaked a small puddle of pre-come on his stomach. Gunner's fist closes around it, not too hard and not too loose, knowing from experience exactly how Barney likes it.

Barney whimpers at the double assault, as Gunner starts thrusting again. He hits the right spot at the same time he speeds up the movement of his hand, and that's it. Barney comes so hard he sees stars.

When he comes back down, Gunner is lying on top of him, having given up supporting his own weight. Judging by the heavy breathing, he's also found his release.

He's being crushed again, but he's too sated to really care. He lifts a pair of leaden arms, putting them around Gunner's sweaty back.

"Don't fall asleep on me," he whispers.

"Nn," Gunner replies.

Chuckling softly, Barney moves his hand to the ticklish spot that's right above Gunner's ribs. "Don't make do it," he threatens.

Gunner starts laughing, even though the fingers aren't doing anything more than hovering. The movement makes his softening cock slip out, and Barney briefly mourns the loss. The feeling of sticky wetness takes over a second later, making him grimace.

"I'll get something to clean you up," Gunner says, but aside from shifting slightly to the side — granting Barney some precious air — he makes no actual move to do so.

"It's fine," Barney says, turning a bit so that he can get a better view of Gunner. "I can deal with it. Clean me off in the shower, tomorrow?"

Gunner mouth stretches into a wide smile. "You got it."

Silence settles, and Barney's halfway to sleep when he realizes it. There's something important that he's been wanting to say for a long, long time now.

"Hey, Gunner," he whispers. "You still awake?"

A pair of bleary eyes slides open. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong. I just — I love you, Gunner."

Gunner pulls him closer, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "You better," he says.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments of any kind will be cherished ♥


End file.
